deep depression, when it seemed over


A Sense of Direction

A man's wish for death could never
have been anymore intense
than that which I feel now,

Life means nothing anymore
to me but
a word poorly used by men
Dreams fade slowly into nightmare
and hope quickly fizzles out like whispers

A stare at my ceiling
and I feel a sense of direction
finally I for once have a courageous decision to make
in this largely controlled existence of mine

A few more words and it will all be over,
Misery I shall make an orphan
My adrenaline flows;
it's the excitement one gets
when on a journey to an unfamiliar land

I bother not the outcome,
for however it ends,
it shall be a conquest

A victory over the banality of existence
A victory for freedom
I stare up again and a grin crosses my face,

I wish it didn't have to end,
wishes are passions miraged
Reality still remains
freedom cometh my path
I shall see Richard Curry





Poetry by Awenlimobor Sylvester
Read 455 times
Written on 2007-03-13 at 13:22

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